


A Splintered Rose

by the_trixster_and_the_fallen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Acceptance, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, BDSM, BDSM Scene, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Bisexuality, Blindfolds, Bottom Dean Winchester, Castiel & Sam Winchester Friendship, Castiel/Dean Winchester BDSM, Castiel/Dean Winchester Mutual Pining, College, Depression, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Female Gabriel (Supernatural), Friendship/Love, Gags, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, LGBTQ Themes, Love, M/M, Masturbation, Mistress, Multi, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Pansexual Character, Polyamorous Character, Praise Kink, Protective Gabriel (Supernatural), Rough Kissing, Self-Acceptance, Sexual Tension, Shibari, Slow Burn, Smut, Social Anxiety, Sub Dean, Top Castiel, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Top!Castiel, bottom!Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-10-19 21:33:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17609405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_trixster_and_the_fallen/pseuds/the_trixster_and_the_fallen
Summary: High school dropout turned college freshman, Castiel Milton finally has his life back on track; A job, class schedules and a regular routine.So when Gabriel introduces him to a submissive brat with emerald eyes and a cocky smirk, he feels his whole world crumble around him. Can he keep a level head and help his new sub along the way?





	1. Welcome To Stanford

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this fic will include things that are not for the faint hearted. It will include mentions of self-harm/rape/drug use. It will include homophobia, bdsm terms (extensively), improper domination, sex, hurt, anxiety, depression and much more. Please be careful proceeding. Thank you. 
> 
> If you would like to see what else i'm working on, feel free to follow me on Tumblr; @sweetteamultifandom

“Castiel Milton?” The receptionist drawls out from behind her thick rimmed glasses, slamming her overly polished nails against the old keyboard.   
“Yes ma’am.” I murmur, nervously tapping my fingers against my strap of my old duffel bag. 

My eyes delve around the room, trying to take in every detail of my new surroundings. The office is quaint, nothing but a few dingey chairs that are fraying around the edges and plants that are bordering on death.  

“Here is your timetable and map of the campus.” She states, already clearly done with the day despite the fact it’s just after noon. Pushing the freshly inked paper towards me, I take it with a gracious nod and a polite smile. I quickly scan over the bold _Welcome to Stanford!_ Lettering, flicking through the paper work to find and take a quick look at the map. 

I turn on my heel, side eying the clinkering air conditioner as I push my way from the building and marches towards the campus dorms. The chilly California air hits me like a brick wall causing me to curl deeper inside my old trench coat. Despite its thin, worn material it was something I clung to like a security blanket, even in the cooler months. 

Trudging through the slick mud and wet grass, I stomp my boots on the mat leading into the building. Taking a moment to gather myself, I push through the heavy glass door to be met with bustling parents and nervous looking freshman. The loud noises, crowds of people have me on edge. The anxiety so thick in the air you could almost taste it. I squeeze past the hordes; mumbling soft apologies. I keep my head low, slipping through the weaves of the unmoving crowd. 

I stare down at my crinkled map, my brows furrowing as I try to find my room number. 35, 36, _ah ha_.

I push past a few students who have blatantly taken up residence in the middle of the hallway; boxes and bags strewn everywhere. I jingle my key, shoving it into the door and with a click, I shuffle into my new room and closes the door briskly. 

I let out a relieved sigh, dropping my bag in the doorway and works on shrugging out of my coat when I hear a deep throated; “Uh-um.” 

I look up, my dark eyes meeting sky blue ones. 

“Sorry, I’m Sam, you must be my new roommate.” The stranger climbs off the rickety bed, hand outstretched.

The man easily towers over me; he is at least 6”4 without a doubt. Long features, dark hair falling in his eyes as he shoots me a warm smile; dressed in plain flannel and dark, worn jeans. 

I slip my smaller hand into his own, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips; “Hi, I’m Castiel. Cas if you prefer.” 

“Cas.” The name rolls off his tongue with warmth and I feel a tinge of immediate comfort. “I hope you don’t mind, My brother and I arrived early so I just took this bed, I hope that’s ok?” He asks, hastily pushing up the sleeves of his shirt as he starts to load all his strewn stuff back into boxes. 

“That’s fine, I am not really fussed where I sleep.” I comment, knowing that ‘sleeping’ is a loose term. A downside of having insomnia.

“First year?” I ask, my eyes landing on the law books he is pushing back into his backpack, “Second, actually.” He corrects.

“Really?” I seem genuinely surprised, considering how young he looks. Barely out of high school to say the very least. What is more surprising is the fact he was lumped in a room with a first year like me.

“My girlfriend and I kinda split so- back to the dorms.” He announces, clearly forcing a wider smile. Perhaps this is a recent adjustment so I don’t push the subject but rather change it to make him more comfortable. 

“I... um-” I stand there awkwardly, wishing I was quicker on my feet to cover up the weird tension but with my uncomfortable self, I would not be surprised if he requested to move out by tomorrow morning.

“My guess is that you are indeed a first year?” He comments, clearly a lot better at social interactions than myself.

“I am. Not law though, I am studying Psychology.” I shuffle to my mattress, plopping down on the edge of the bed and forces myself to stop grinding my teeth habitually. _Don't be awkward. It's one person. Breath._

I feel my body heating up involuntarily, fighting the urge to climb out the window. 

“That’s great.” He grins, taking a peek down at his watch. “Oh! I have got to run, I’m meeting up with some friends for drinks. Do you want to come?” He asks, slipping his phone into his pocket. 

My response should be yes. Gabby told me I should try and expand my circle, even my therapist has been encouraging the same. But this is big. Meeting one person, fine. Meeting a group, no thank you. Sam is enough for today. Baby steps. 

“Next time, I promise. I am going out a little later any way.” I thank him for his offer and with a polite wave, he slips out the door. 

_Now what?_

I pull my bag up onto the bed and tugs open the zipper of my duffel. I pour out the contents and gently digs through to find my shower caddy. With a look of success, I climb to my feet and makes my way to the shared bathroom. 

_It_ _is_ _a little more_ _money_ _each week but_ _it is_ _honestly worth it to not use the communal showers._

I gather up my towel and fresh clothing, and shuffles into the small room. Locking the door behind me, I shrug off my oversized sweater and my long sleeve shirt, peeling the slacks and underwear off next. I try to avoid looking in the mirror, something I had done for years.

_Are the scars still there?_

The questions still niggle at the back of my mind, something I know is all too well true. These ones wouldn’t fade, no amount of time could. 

I turn my head, shaking away my past as I avoid looking down at myself. Turning the water on full blast, the shower head rumbles to life and splurts out a stream of hot water. I slip into the welcoming steam and closes the curtain behind me. _Perhaps_ _college_ _life isn’t going to be that bad. I already have my schedules planned around work and my other activities, it should be fine. I usually keep to myself any way._

I continue my train of thought, lazily getting lost in the class overviews that I had read about earlier that morning on the bus. It wasn’t until the water became lukewarm and my fingers started to crinkle that I even realized I had spent longer than usual in the shower. Turning the nozzles off, I shake out my mop of wet hair and dries myself down. Pulling out my small grooming kit, I get to work on preparing for the evening ahead. 

_***_

There are few things I can control in this life. Up until a few years ago, it was an absolute Trainwreck. But now, I have order. Peace within myself and a purpose. Sure, working at a coffee shop to pay for college wasn’t ideal but I was proud of myself for it. Even if I did step into college a few years later than everyone else; better late than never right? 

I pull my focus back to my sketch book, scrunching up the artwork I deemed nowhere close to acceptable and tosses it into my bag. Pulling at my tie, I let out a frustrated sigh. I could control how often I make time to draw, but it irritated me that I couldn’t find inspiration. I’m in a new part of the city, overlooking the water as the sun sets; how could that not stir up my inner artist?

Slamming the art book closed, I shove it back into my bag and tosses my pencils inside with it. Dragging my hand over my cleanly shaven face, I pull myself to my feet and begins to walk. The bus station wasn’t too far and with just enough luck, I would make it to my destination a little earlier than usual. 

Boarding the bus with a simple flash of my student card, I head to the back and slides into an empty seat. I settle my bag on my lap and catches my reflection in the glass. My fingers move up to habitually try and flatten my already gelled hair before fishing around for my phone. I plug in my earbuds, drowning out the surrounding noise with something familiar. 

I let my eyes drift shut, focusing on the hum-drum of the wordless music. My fingers dance along involuntarily, pattering along the rough texture of my bag. I could feel eyes on me, surely perplexed by the fact I was in a well-tailored suit on a bus early in the evening. A student no less. 

What they wouldn’t see is the fraying cuffs, the slight fade of color and replaced buttons on a once exquisite suit. They wouldn’t know how carefully I store it after every Friday visit to Gabriels’ loft, who so generously provided me with the suit on my 21st birthday all those years ago. 

Snapping my eyes open, I look around the bus and am met with no stares or sneers as I feared. _Cas. Breath._ I tell myself, letting out a long sigh as the bus jerks forward and begins its journey uptown. 

The bus ride is a little longer than usual and as the sun begins to set and the street lamps flicker on, I become a little more alert of my approaching stop. Pushing the buzzer, I climb from the bus and steps out onto the side walk. Burrowing tighter into my coat, I walk quickly towards the skyrise on the corner of the block. 

Pushing past the revolving doors, I step into the large lobby. My dress shoes click against the marble floors, nearly every surface reflective with gold. It was a cheesy foyer, something that really emphasized just how rich the tenants are. Making the familiar path up to the top floor, I step out into the softly lit hallway. 

I push open the door to the suave apartment on the left, a place I had become familiar with; the minimalist furniture, the open floor plan and expensive antiques. I slide my shoes off in the doorway, tucking my laces habitually inside the lip and places them on her dedicated shoe rack. Turning to face the floor length mirror in the doorway, I adjust my tie and smooths out non-existent creases of my formal three-piece suit. Glancing down at my watch, I was honestly glad I decided to take the earlier bus to arrive ten minutes early. 

Placing my phone face up on the stand beside the door and my bag on the hallway rack, I shuffle over the plush carpet and kneels down in the center of the living room. Digging into my jacket pocket, I withdraw a delicate, ribbon collar; A simplistic black piece with intricate lace. I lay it respectfully on the carpet in front of me. I settle with my knees shoulder width apart, sitting off my heels; my hands clasping my forearms behind my back and I let my head hang low. 

I wait.

And wait.

I don’t know how much time passes, I am unsure but I start to shift a little I feel an ache in my knees. 

I hear the click of the front door and I straighten my back like a reflex. Eyes downcast, I remain silent and unmoving as her heels click slow against the wooden floor before shifting to muffled taps on the soft carpet. 

Her red heels and well-manicured toes peek into my vision and I remain still. Without a word, she leans forward and lifts the collar from the floor. I feel her presence as she moves around to behind me, fingers sliding over the curve of my shoulder in a gentle manner before she laces the collar around my neck with a firm knot. With a brush over her palm over my hair, I gracefully stand up from my position on the floor. I bite back a grunt as pins and needles prickle along my knees and down my calves. 

I look down at the petite blonde, taking her offered hand into my own and presses a kiss on her knuckles. “Good evening mistress, how may I serve you?” The words, having been repeated ever Friday night since the day I turned 21, slip off my tongue with delicate ease. 

“We shall start with the usual. I do apologize for making you wait so long, I was held up in traffic.” Her voice is soft, dripping with honey. “Are your knees or legs aching in any way?” She inquires, her golden eyes flushing with concern. 

“Yes mistress.” I respond truthfully and she nods; “Walk to the kitchen and meet me in the bedroom. If you require, you may stop to massage your legs.” With those words, she turns on her heel and marches towards the master room swiftly.  

Following her instructions, I let out a soft huff and limps a little towards the kitchen. As I hobble, my tight muscles begin to relax and I feel a sense of relief. Making my way towards the bedroom, I find her awaiting on the edge of her mattress. Her stance is proud and open; back straight, knees crossed. A gracious smile tugs across her lips as I stand in the doorway and waits for permission to enter.

“Darling, come in.” She gestures to the mat at the foot of her bed. I step inside without a word, kneeling in front of her without waiting to be asked. She looks down at me, holding out her right foot expectantly. I brush my fingers over the buckle of her shoe, undoing the simplistic strap and slides it off. I place it beside the bed, moving onto her left shoe. I brush my fingers over her bare feet as a sign that I am finished. 

“Stand.” She tells me and without a second thought I am back on my feet. She pulls her hair over her shoulder, the curls falling delicately down to her waist. I reach forward, gently pulling the zipper down from the base of her neck to her hips. She shimmies out of the business attire, standing in only her black underwear. She passes me the discarded silk dress expectantly and I bow my head.

“Thank you, mistress.” I hold the delicate material carefully, turning to her closet to place it into a fresh dry-cleaning bag. She slips into the bathroom and closes the door. I return to my mat, kneeling down at the foot on her bed and resumes my position; knees shoulder width apart, hands clasped behind my back on my forearms.

I let my eyes peek at the soft glow of the light slip from under the bathroom door, my mind at peace as I listen to the shower start and stop. Moments later, she emerges in her fluffy robe and her curls twirled into a towel. 

“My sweet, please pick out my sleepwear.” She coos, moving across the room with purpose.   
“It would be a pleasure, mistress.” I respond deeply, once again pulling myself to my feet and slips inside her large closet. I finger through the selection of materials and settles on a red, satin floor length night dress that I know she is most fond of. 

I slip it from the clothes hanger, stepping back inside the bedroom. I stand at attention, quietly just outside her wardrobe as I wait for further instructions. 

She peers over at me, her face lighting up in absolute bliss. “Oh my love, this is perfect.” She purrs, “Such a good boy for me.” My heart warms, fighting off a smile.   
“You are too kind, mistress.” I breath out as she reaches up and pats my cheek affectionately. 

She takes the satin gown from my hands, averting my eyes respectfully as she slips off her fluffy towel and pulls on her sleepwear. Uncurling the nest of wet hair, she takes a seat at her vintage vanity.

“Come.” She gestures for me to approach her and I do so with enthusiasm. Reaching onto the stand, I pick up her brush and very gently begins combing out her wet ringlets. Now that the thick makeup was stripped off her face and hair pulled back from her high cheek bones and narrow features; It gave her a softness that her usual look didn’t. 

“Have you eaten dinner yet, pet?” She asks, glancing to meet my eyeline in the mirror with a soft smile.    
“No Mistress.” I answer softly, focusing on her tangled hair.

She nods in response, her fingers moving to dance over her array of perfumes.

“Rose tonight? Or perhaps something darker?” She murmurs, her fingers sliding over the many choices, “What would you like, dear?” She asks and my eyes drop to my favorite scent. Sandalwood and oak, sea salt and musk. 

“Number 5. If you would indulge me, Mistress.” A sly smile crosses over her lips as she picks up the perfume of my choice, “Always something masculine. Not that I mind.” She sprays it on her skin as I begin to work on a tight braid from the top of her head.

“I found someone for you.” I pause my movements momentarily, my heart stuttering.    
“Y-you did?” I stammer, clearing my throat as she shoots me a warning glare, “I am honored, mistress.”    
“I have been so proud of your progress over the last few years and I believe you are now strong enough to handle standing on your own in a relationship. He is a good fit for you.” She breathes out. 

She has a smile on her lips and I do my best to focus, trying not to ask the flurry of questions that pelt around my mind. 

“I can see your impatience, darling. Take a deep breath.” She commands and I stop the intricate braid to take a breath in. I let it out. 

“I apologize, mistress.” I murmur and she bows her head; “I promise I will divulge more information after dinner.” 

I nod my head in thanks, tying the end of her hair with a simple band. “Finished, mistress.” 

“Retrieve your book for me. Whilst I read, you can order dinner for us.” She waves me off and I slip from the room. I scoop up my discarded bag, pulling out my thick binder and my cell phone to make the call. I return to the room and places the binder carefully on her bed. 

I am about to settle on the mat when she swivels around, her legs crossing over gracefully; “Darling. Order from Xio Wu’s down the street. Also, fetch me a glass of Montaya Cabernet.” I dial the familiar number, excusing myself with a quiet murmur and closes the bedroom door behind me. 

I place the order before returning my phone to the designated spot. Mistress has always been strict on manners and etiquette, the only time I dare touch my phone in her presence is via her request. 

Slipping into the kitchen, I search her wine rack and pulls out a familiar bottle of her favorite red wine. Collecting a clean glass, I give it a once over to approve of its absolute clarity before retrieving a clean cloth which I expertly drape over my arm. Carrying the items back to her bedroom, I find her in intense concentration. I knock, waiting for permission.

With a gesture of her finger, I wait patiently for her to finish her sentence. She lifts her head, closing the binder and gestures for me to resume my spot at the edge of her bed. Kneeling down at her feet, she laces her fingers together and watches me intently. 

I place the glass down on the mat and sits up straight. I pop the cork with confidence, sliding it into my jacket pocket as I pull the soft cloth from across my arm and cleans off any cork debris. Lifting the glass, I pour a third of it full of wine, twirling the bottle in my hand. I hold out the glass for her. She takes it between her nimble fingers without a word. 

Taking the cloth once again, I rub around the rim to be sure it is now completely clean before placing it on the side table she conveniently keeps beside the end of her bed for my benefit. 

“Tell me about this wine.” She quizzes, her eyes fluttering as she circles the rim of her glass with her index finger. 

“This wine is directly imported from Napa Valley. It has a black current aroma, with hints of pomegranate. The wine itself is sweet and aromatic, best complimenting dark meat dishes. The wine is usually chilled for ten minutes prior to consuming but I know Mistress prefers it warm.” I smile proudly as she gently lifts my chin. “Very good, dear. You are doing so well this evening.” She compliments and I am almost glowing with praise. 

She pulls the binder open again and gestures for me to stay quiet as she flicks through. I keep my eyes trained on the pages as she flicks through the barrel of information, I had recorded this week; My work schedule, my diet, my gym clock in and clock out times, notes on my reading, my chores check list, short-term and long-term goals.

“Reading?” She asks and I straighten up, “I am going well, over half way through.”    
“Very good. I want you to take your time with that book and read it thoroughly. Do you understand?”    
“Yes mistress.”    
“Tell me one thing you taught yourself this week.” Her once honey dripped voice is now firm, but not in anger.   
“I learnt how to cook baked Alaska.” She nods, her fingers delicately brushing over the pages of my book with care.   
“What are three things you have done this week that made you happy?”

I take a deep breath. When we first started this exercise all those years ago, I couldn’t think of a single thing. But as she built my confidence; proved to me that I am worth the fuss and affection, it became easier.

“I took the time to groom myself.” I murmur, a crease furrowing between brows, “I made sure to keep up to date with my journal and I took time out of my schedule to do some research.” 

“Research? Do you mind expanding on that?” 

“I have been reading up on little space, actually.” I comment, my voice quiet as I let my eyes drop to the plush carpet. 

“Pet, look at me.” Her voice softens, leaning down to reach for my hand as I slide them back to settle on my lap out of her reach. “Come.” She moves my binder aside, motioning for me to scoot a little closer to sit between her legs. I move closer, resting between her shins. She cards her fingers gently through my hair. I let out a low sigh, resting my cheek on her thigh as I close my eyes. 

“I know these questions are draining on you but you are doing so well for me. You are such a good boy.” She whispers, voice soft as she leans down to place a gentle kiss atop my mop of messy hair. 

“Would you like to talk about why little space suddenly sparked your interest?” She asks and I take a breath. I didn’t want to burden her with a sudden blurt of unclear feelings. 

“I’m not sure mistress. Do you mind if we take a break? I am suddenly feeling...” I trail off. She knew what I was feeling without me needing to voice it.Although I am usually one to keep myself composed and together, when it came to her I felt myself slip. It wasn’t a sub drop, but that is why I started researching little space. I was expecting to find why this solemn feeling had become more frequent as of recent and thought I might be regressing but I came up blank even after the research. 

“Enochian?” She breathes out my safe word and I shake my head, “Ok baby boy. Come lay with me until dinner arrives. We can watch whatever you like as a treat for you being so wonderful this week. Look at how thorough your book is for me, and you have been so great this evening.” With a swift movement, she holds out how hand to pull me to my feet. Lacing my fingers with hers, I stand and all but flops onto the fluffy bed linens and mounds of pillows.  

She gathers me up in her arms, her hands sliding around to rub my back. I instantly melt, resting my cheek on her shoulder. “I don’t require television, just affection is enough.” I mumble, “But thank you for your offer mistress.” 

“You have been feeling lonely, haven’t you?” Her words sink in and my heart clenches, “I know ever since you and Hannah parted ways you have been on your own. How long ago was that, a year or so?” 

I just nod, my jaw clenching a little and curls into her warmth. It was comforting, but not what I was craving. I wanted a firm chest, strong arms and the musky scent of a man. 

“Darling, have you been with anyone since you came out?” She moves her hand up to gently rest it on my cheek, her thumb running over my cheek bone. 

“A few. Just one night stands really, to try it out.” I answer honestly and she lets out a hum of affirmation, closing the topic as not to pry. 

The doorbell chimes, drifting its way into the bedroom. I reluctantly pulls myself to my feet and she reaches, taking a loose grip on my hand; “Dear. You are welcome to explore your sexuality as you like, but please be aware of the risks and stay safe for me.” Her words are genuine and final, my heart softening as I nod obediently. 

I slip my hand from her grasp and makes my way to the front door, collecting the Chinese food from the delivery boy. I take it to the dining table, sorting it accordingly. I look up to be greeted by her patiently watching me from the doorway. I pull out her chair, gesturing for her to sit which she does so with a gracious nod. 

She picks up her chopsticks, immediately digging into the Wonton Noodles. 

“Sweetheart, if you are up for the topic; I would like to talk more about the boy I selected for you.” Her golden gaze meets my own and I feel my heart leap at the words. 

I was excited, despite my mood shifts being so erratic this evening. Drawing one of the many cardboard boxes deeper, a soft smile tugs onto my lips; “Yes please mistress.”

“Now, as you know; I do not take matters such as these lightly. As we are not sexually intimate, it was difficult to decide how to choose a good submissive for you so I could only guess.” She waves her chopsticks in the air briefly, “Jensen, as he goes by, is young but capable. Once a submissive to Michael-” 

I cut her off, despite how out of line it is; “Michael?! Are you kidding me?” My eyes widen and her jaw tighten.

“Yes-”    
   
“No, I can’t take on responsibility like that. Choose someone else. I can’t-” I ramble, my anxiety creeping up to nerve-wrecking heights as I feel a tightness bloom in my stomach. 

“Castiel.” I suck in an unwilling breath and I could feel my heart pounding against my ribcage. I look up from my chopsticks and immediately regrets my actions of not only interrupting, but being blatantly rude.   
“Mis-” I start and she holds up a finger.

Closing her eyes, she draws in a deep breath. I wait, knowing that patience is not one of her virtues and I would need to give her time to calm down. Drawing in a few more slow breaths, she places her chopsticks down and pushes away her food. Lacing her manicured nails together, she rests her wrists on the table and finally makes eye contact.

“This is not supposed to be easy, Castiel. I am to push you to expand your circle and better yourself as a person. Have I ever endangered you?” She asks.   
“No mistress.”   
“You trust me?”    
“Of course, mistress.” 

She clicks her tongue, “We were having such a nice evening. Perhaps I should have approached this topic in another way. I will give you a moment to re-evaluate your words and try again.” Her words are firm, much like a slap on the wrist. A warning. 

I take a moment to gather my thoughts before responding; “Thank you, mistress. I apologize for my brass, thoughtless response.” Dipping my head down, she relaxes and gestures for me to continue; “I am thankful that you have presented me with such a wonderful opportunity to take on a lost soul of my own but I do wonder if perhaps I am the right person for the task.” I answer honestly and she lets out a low sigh.

“Castiel. I believe this will be a perfect fit for you. If I have overestimated what you are ready for, I do apologize. But over the last six months of intense, domination training, I believe you are ready to spread your wings and take care of your own.” Now uninterested in her food, she meets my eye line; “You have patience, understanding and a firm hand. Jensen needs that. If you do not want to take on the task, I understand. But I believe in your abilities. You are a very good person. Repeat.” 

“I am a good person.” 

“And I deserve to be given a chance.”

I take in a deep breath; “And I deserve to be given a chance.” 

She nods, “Clean off the table and bring me my briefcase.” She takes her glass of wine, taking a generous sip. I stand, my breath still a little shaky as I clear off the table and places the leftover food into her fridge. Moving back to the hallway; I pick up her thick leather briefcase and carries it to the table. 

“May I, Mistress?” I ask, gesturing to the empty space that is in front of her.   
“You may.” She gestures for me to do so.

“Castiel. Look at me.” Her words are clipped; not with anger but rather concern. 

I place it on the table with a soft _thud_ , turning my attention back to her. 

“Hold out your palms.” I do so, trying to conceal the slight shake, “Close them into fists.” Her voice grows gentle, her fingers pressing over my enclosed hands; “squeeze as tight as you can and breath with me.” She visibly breathes in and I follow suit, letting out a longer exhale. She repeats it a few times, her hands slipping from mine. “Now release your anxiety.” I relax my hands, all the shaky tension and constriction of muscles slipping from me and I let out a relieved sigh. It was a simple exercise, but it grounded me in a way that no amount of alcohol or drugs had ever achieved.

“Thank you, mistress.” With a bow of her head, I move to resume my seated position opposing her. 

Her fingers move swiftly, popping open the case. She shuffles through her copious amount of paperwork and pulls out a soft pink binder with my name pressed in gold foil on the front. I feel a sense of warmth and security, something about the official way its done makes me smile. 

“Are you ready?” She asks, eyes clouded with worry but I do my best to push away my insecurity, nodding briskly; “Yes Mistress.” 

She flicks through the pages, moving past my submissive contract and general health paperwork she keeps on file. 

“Now...” Her fingers smooth over the crinkled plastic, clicking out the bound clump of paper with a swift movement. “Tell me what you know about Michaels’ pets. Considering your brash reaction, I assume you have heard the worst of it.” 

I nod, recapping the whispers among community members. “I know that Michael mistreated his pets,” I let out a sigh, “Some came out a lot more damaged than others.” 

She averts her eyes, staring down at the file; “What my brother did is unforgivable. If I had known sooner, I would have-” Her brows furrow, a flicker of sadness brushing over her usually taunt expression, “No. I can’t change what happened. But we can try and fix it. Isn’t that right, babe?” 

“Yes Mistress.” 

“As you know, Alfie is now under my care. He is one of the only ones who stayed after Michael was expedited. He was...difficult at first. I need you to listen carefully, do you understand?”

I nod, breathing out affirmation yet again. 

“Aftercare was non-existent with Michael. No limits. He blurred lines between scene and reality; safe words were not taken seriously.” She seems to be gathering anger yet again, her knuckles turning white as she grasps at the edge of the book; “He is a disgusting human being and an even worse Dom.” She spits, taking a moment to grit through her anger. 

“Jensen is one of the few who stayed after Michaels’ departure. He has jumped around between dominants, but he is...special.” She picks the word carefully, “He is brash, stubborn and a total brat. But- he just needs a firm hand. He needs someone patient, kind and understanding. He needs you.” 

I let out a breath, not knowing I had been holding it in; “May I?” I gently hold my hands out for the file. She passes me the thin folder and I gently pull out the contents. It carries his medical records, photos from events and generic information. My eyes land on what must have been his very first party at the club. He was dressed in soft flannel and ripped jeans, the goofiest smile on his face. A smile involuntarily tugs at the corners of my lips, my fingers brushing gently over the fraying image.

He looked sturdy, undeniably happy in this photo. The smile lit up the most beautiful green eyes I had ever seen that were framed with thick lashes. Small freckles were scattered over his nose and his hair was stylishly short. 

Moving through the snapshots, they grew more and more solemn the moment Michael began appearing in them. He appeared rigid, the smile forced. 

“How long were they partners?” I ask softly, going back to the first image. 

“Partners? Never. Dom and Sub? Half a year. But that is more than enough time to fuck up a submissives’ psych, trust me.” Her words are edged and I nod, flicking through the other information quickly. 

“Has he already agreed to meet me?” I ask, wondering exactly what his reaction would have been to seeing my club file. 

“Yes. He thought it was amusing I picked you but agreed to a meeting.” I feel my stomach drop and my body flush heatedly, “Castiel. I was truthful about his first impressions of you as I did not want you to think I was leading you into this blindly. He is tough, but you are tougher. I know you are.” She holds out her hand and I suck a breath, reaching over to lace my fingers with hers. 

“You have too much faith in me, mistress.” I tell her and she shakes her head in response.   
“You don’t have enough in yourself.” She glances up at the clock and I notice it clicking over to ten, “Alfie will be here soon darling, may I?” She gestures towards my collar and I do my best to hide my disappointment at our scene already being over. 

She appears behind me; her nimble fingers making quick work of the knot and slides it off from around my neck. She places the collar delicately on the table and I look up at her tiredly. 

“Cassie, are you feeling ok?” She asks, her fingers gently rubbing over my neck.   
“Just a little tired.” I confess, just glad to now be able to fully relax in her presence.    
“I know. I noticed. Perhaps we should just watch something ‘till Alfie arrives?” She offers, dropping her hands to gently tug on my suit jacket. I nod, the files now forgotten as I slip from the chair and follows her to the couch. She flops down first and I slide behind her, wrapping her up into my arms. She was so small she curled into me like a small pillow. 

“Gabby?” I murmur softly and she tilts her head back to look back at me.   
“Mm?”    
“Are you sure I’m ready for this?” I ask, doubt still clawing at my chest like a persistent cat.    
“As your mistress and best friend, I would never lie to you.” She quirks a smile, grabbing my arms and wrapping them around her waist, wiggling back into me. 

She is right, although at first this arrangement was a simple, non-sexual commitment between Mistress and Servant, it quickly blossomed out of that. We are now best friends and I was eternally grateful for her guidance and support, in and out of scene. 

I snuggle into her neck and she giggles, swatting at my arm. “Your gay ass picked The Real Housewives to watch last week which was utter trash! So, I get to pick this week.” She smiles smugly, grabbing the remote from the glass coffee table. 

“I cannot watch another re-run episode of The Bachelor.” I roll my eyes, reaching to try and pry the remote from her grasp. 

“No, as your mistress I command you-” She is lost in a fit of giggles.   
“You should know out of scene that doesn’t work with me.” I tease lightly, jabbing her waist and she grins up at me. 

“Psh, save all your terrible television choices for Rowena.” I comment as she glides through the channels, clutching her remote protectively.

“Excuse you, do you really thing Ro would be interested in this nonsense?” She quips, finally finding the show she is looking for. 

“True.” I murmur, nudging her gently from behind. 

I gently rest my chin on top of her blonde curls, half focusing on the television. 

“Cas?” She rolls over, gently pressing her hands on my chest before sliding closer to pad at my tie affectionately; “How are you feeling?” 

“I’m fine.” She reaches up and brushes her fingers through my hair.

“You sure? How did you feel about the scene? Did I do anything that made you uncomfortable?” She watches me with concern and I grab her flurrying hands. 

“Gabby. I am fine. I loved tonight, thank you. This always is the favorite part of my week. You are a great Dom.” I reassure her, knowing she is having a moment of Dom-drop after the intense snap in the middle. I reach over the couch, digging around blindly in the side drawer. I take out a Lindt chocolate, pulling it from the wrapper and presses it against her lips; “Open.” 

She pouts a little, accepting the ball of chocolate into her mouth. She takes a moment, her voice small as she swallows; “Thank you. You are so good to me.” 

“And you to me. I should get going.” I climb off the couch and she follows, reaching out her arms for a hug. After a quick embrace, I pull on my shoes and long coat. 

“Night Gabby.”

“Good night Cassie. Text me to let me know you arrived home safely ok?” She fidgets a little with her night gown. Stepping forth, I press a kiss to the top of her head. “Alfie will be here soon. Take a rest.” I tell her and she nods. With a wave, I slip from her apartment and heads home. 


	2. Connor's Cafe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are enjoying the ride so far! This is a difficult fic to write and hours of research goes into each chapter to make it realistic and perfect, I edited this more than i would care to admit. So i hope you enjoy, and kudos and comments are always super appreciated! :) 
> 
> Tumblr: @the-trixster-and-the-fallen

I wake with a start; heart pounding, blood pu mping. M  y body  is flushed with an undesirable heat  despite the nip in the air.  Taking a few ragged breaths, I take in my surroundings and calms my racing heart.

I sit up, dragging my fingers through my damp hair as I look over at my new roommate who was curled so far under his duvet that only a tuft of hair sticking from beneath even tells me he’s there. I got home well before he did last night, able to tuck my suit away before he asked too many questions. 

Dragging in a deep breath, I  look around i n the darkness to squint at the blaring alarm clock; the red numbers telling me that it was just past 4am.  _ At least I got some rest.  _ I argue to myself, contemplating laying down again but my tear stained pillow made me re-evaluate that decision entirely. 

With a quiet stumble, I fall out of bed and blindly gathers up whatever mismatched ensemble I can grab, tugging it on with a few quiet profanities. I grapple around my bedroom floor, finding my satchel and trench coat. With a feeling of quiet victory, I bundle  everything up into my arms and slips from the shared room. 

The hallway is hauntingly quiet.  In the darkness, I creep through the halls, the only sanction of light peeking through the slips in the curtains above. 

I manage to slip off the campus, my tan coat wrapped tight around my body  like a shield  as  I  begin my aimless, exploratory journey. I adjust my satchel, keeping my head low as my boots crumble the snow on the sidewalk. No longer a chalky white but rather  a  grey slush, matching the dreary town it inhabits.  _ How am I supposed to feel inspired in a place like this?  _ I stop in my tracks, curling my hand around the leather strap on my bag. Pulling out my phone, I delicately punch in familiar numbers. If anyone is awake  it’s;-

“Hello my little  tweetie pie, long time no talk.” Her thick  scottish accent breaks the silence and I can’t help the small smile that flitters over my lips. 

“Hi Rowena.” I speak quietly, her end of the phone loud with the clinks of glass and heavy music, “Still working?” I state the obvious and she purrs out her response; “Of course darling. How can I help?” 

“I just wanted to hear your voice, it’s been a while.” I lie, feeling small. I craved comfort, the familiarity of home. Being in a new place packed full of strangers is already taking a toll. The dark city grappling me into a state of uninspired anxiety. 

“Well my peachy pie has defin i tely chosen the perfect time to call.” She coos out, indulging me as she talks about how the night went. I get lost in her stories, simply humming along as the anxiety prickling along my skin begins to fade. I feel relaxed, feeling a sense of grounding with her meaningless  chatter .

“Are you excited about tonight?” She asks. I  suck in a deeper breath, trying to keep my composure as I try not to overthink it, “Mm. Gabby is taking me out shopping later today.” 

“Is she  comin ’ by the campus?” 

“Yeah. She insisted.”

“Oh my, you know we only have enough room in our apartment for a few of you  wee lads; her going to your dorm is like sending her to a candy shop.” Her throaty laugh makes me smile, clutching my phone a little tighter, “Well if she does bring home a new treat, I'm sure it will be delicious as always.” She coos. 

“I will keep her on her best behavior.” I promise and I could imagine her warm smile behind my frosted lashes, “I know you will, lass. Take care aye? I should get back to it.” With a farewell, the line falls dead.

I am left in the brisk weather, having wandered to who knows where. I turn back on my heel, squinting over the looming trees with disdain as the amber burn of dawn pierces the skyline. Letting out a few dista s teful noises, I begin to trek my way back to the dorms. My head hangs low, mindlessly scrolling through my phone when I hear my name. 

I jump a little, honestly not expecting it as my head snaps up. I glance around and spots an outline of a somewhat familiar figure. Sam waves, jogging up to me with such enthusiasm. He has a bright smile, dressed in a matching tracksuit and an oversized beanie. My eyes widen, honestly not having expected anyone to even be up this early. 

“Did you come out for a jog too?” He asks, halter a few feet from me with the worlds’ biggest smile. Soft puffs of cold air cloud between us and I look down at my outfit. Mismatched socks, track pants and a sweater, ado r ned with my signature coat.

“Uh... not exactly.” I murmur, forcing a smile. He pulls out both of his ear buds, stretching out his long arms as he seems unphased by my awkward behavior.

“After my run, you  wanna grab breakfast?” He asks.

“Yeah, sure.” I nod, my smile growing a little more gen ui ne as I tuck my icy fingers deep into my pockets, “I should um...” I gesture with my head and he nods in understanding, “Meet you back there.” He calls out and with a wave, he is back off and racing. I watch as he jogs away; so full of energy despite the dreary weather. With a little more spring in my step, I make my way back to campus. 

Pushing the doors open to the familiar dorm, I feel a rush of warmth hit me as I begin to  strip  off my layers. 

 let out a long huff, peeling off my mismatched disaster of dress and pulls on a pair of slacks accompanied by a soft dress shirt. Black and white had become a staple of dress around Gabby, knowing she appreciated the color palette. Smoothing back my loose hair with my fingers, I climb back into the comfort of my bed and pulls out the book that Gabby had leant me to read. 

 

 

 

*** 

 

 

  
An hour had passed before Sam returns; a soft sheen of sweat across his smooth face but nothing could seem to shift that smile. He greets me with a rather infectious laugh, talking about a new café a few blocks from here that he wanted to try. He mentions something about Acai Chai and although I was entirely blanking, I muster up enthusiasm and responds with a nod. 

He dressed in what I assume by now is his day to day clothes; a loose flannel and baggy jeans. Gathering up my back pack and pulling on my worn dress shoes, I take a step into the hall with him close behind.

“So, Cas. Can I call you that?” He inquires and I simply nod, “Are you going on a date or something later?” He questions, gesturing towards  my much dressier attire.

“Oh, um,” I gather my thoughts, setting off on a path to the café. “Just meeting up with a friend.” 

“Seems rather formal for that, don’t you think?” My eyes dart up, expecting to  be  met criticism but am surprisingly  greeted with what I assume is a light teasing, his smile warm and unguarded.  _ Why is this guy so nice to me?  _

The question niggles as we walk in silence, the uncertainty of going out of the room thickening with each passing step.  _ What if he just  _ _ pitys _ _ me? What if he is going to make fun of me?  _

_ Cas, breath.  _ I tell myself, dragging myself back to the moment rather than letting myself wallow in my own daunting thoughts. We walk the rest of the trek in light conversation; him mostly telling me about his classes and how he was excited for the new teacher that had taken over one of his many, intense subjects.

I nod along, mostly keeping  silent. As we reach the café, I tug open the glass door and am greeted with a gush of hot air. The café is quiet, a fairly solemn atmosphere. My eyes dr a w to the bored barista; She is leaning against the rattling coffee machine with less enthusiasm than possibly anyone could muster.

“Hi, welcome to Connor’s Café, what can I get for you?” She drawls out, seemingly less than impressed with having to work so early in the morning.

“Can I get the Acai bowl? And a chai tea?” Sams’ bubbly personality  is n’t smothered despite the dreariness of the place and the moment his eyes fall on me; I feel heat creep up over my cheeks.  _ Right, think Cas. What do you want?  _

I look down at the menu, the puddle of words daunting as I could feel their expectant eyes burning into me. I feel my tongue dry, my palms sweaty as my mind races. 

“Same.” Is all I manage to conjure up but Sam’s  warm smile d oesn ’t falter, pulling out his wallet. I fumble around for my own only to be met with  insistence that it  i s Sam’s treat. An awkward feeling washes over me; no one ever offered to buy things for me, except for Gabby. 

Taking a table number, Sam leads me to the back of the café. Sliding into one of the cracked vinyl booths, I follow suit and stiffly sits opposing him. 

“So-” Sam starts when I hear my phone ring; breaking the tense atmosphere. 

“I’m sorry.” Embarrassed, I fumble around in my trench coat pocket and withdraws the screaming phone.  Gabriels ’ name flashed on the screen and with manners that she would be proud of, I excuse myself and slips outside to answer the call. 

The cold air swarmed; clinging to every inch of exposed skin the second I stepped from the café. The prickled ice crunched beneath my shoes as I tightened my worn coat around my shoulders. Answering the call, my breath came out in puffs, “Good morning, Gabby.” 

“Morning, Cassie.” Her voice  i s chipper and much too cheery for the daunting hours of the morning.

“How are you?” I ask, keeping my formality despite not have to. She was like a sister to me;  So any chance I could show off and make her proud, I grappled at the chance.

“I am wonderful, thank you for asking.” Her voice  i s like a warm melody and I couldn’t stop the smile tugging at the corners of my lips, “Where are you? Can I come get you in about 20 minutes?” She asks and I turn to peer back at Sam who  i s playing with his phone inside the café.

It would be rude to simply leave him, but it was Gabriel.  Even so, she insisted that I try to expand my circle and make friends;  “I,” I  suck in a breath, forcing it back out before continuing, “I am having breakfast with my roommate.” I explain and I hear her excited squawks as she tells me how wonderful it is that I’m already making friends.

I brush it off . H ow could I assume that I  am  his friend? We had met less than 24 hours ago; he  is simply being friendly and trying to get along. Otherwise what an awkward school year it would be. 

“Gabby, could we perhaps meet in an hour?” I suggest and I could sense her eagerness, insisting that it  i s more than ok. 

“Send me the address and I will pick you up after.” She  hums and with a  toodles , the line falls flat. Pushing my phone back into the depths of my pocket, I step back into the café and plops myself back across from Sam.

“I  apologise , I-” I was about to scramble together an excuse when Sam waves his hand, fairly laid back. 

“Hey man, it’s cool. I get it.” The tea was brought to our table. I try not to show my wariness as I wasn’t sure what it is. I pull the worn cup a little closer and peers inside at the murky liquid. Wrapping my fingers around the handle, I bring it to my lips and takes a sip. It tasted earthy; flooded with the taste of cardamom, cloves and ginger. It’s a strange combination of flavors; but not entirely bad.

Sams ’ eyes light up, “This is really good.” He muses and despite my own thoughts, I dutifully hum in agreement. 

Through Sams’ happy conversational banter I learn he has one brother named Dean who runs his own garage down town. No other siblings, or family to speak of. He is insistent that I join him for drinks the following Thursday and I nod; unsure whether I could attend such an event. Knowing only one person? Surely Sam would find it annoying having me glued to his side the entire night. 

Before long, two small bowls are placed respectfully in front of us. I poke at it, eyeing the fruit on top. Ok, that I could work out. But what was the mushy stuff underneath? Was  it colored yoghurt? Or a smoothie of some sort? This isn’t food. It’s like a health smoothie in a bowl. 

“You alright, Cas?” He asks and my head snaps up. I nod, shooting him what I hope is a reassuring smile and not a grimace as I take a bit of it on to my spoon and brings it to my lips. It ’s sweet,  although  not something I would have personally chosen.  _ God, why am I so stupid? Why couldn’t I just buck up the courage and order something I actually wanted to eat? I’m such an idiot.  _

Sam must have seen my internal struggle as I hesitantly scoop up a second spoon. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it.” He reaches forward, gently placing his hand on my arm. My reflex was to pull away but the touch was friendly, reassuring. He seemed to understand the small struggle I had within myself. He paid for the food, I really should eat it. 

“Cas.” He reiterates my name again and I look at him, being met by a soft expression, “May I ask why you ordered it if you don’t like it?” His question wasn’t judgmental. It wasn’t even harsh, he was just genuinely curious.

“Oh, I just wanted to try something new.” I told him, it was a lie and being the terrible liar I  am, I  knew he would see right through it. I fidget a little but he doesn’t push  the topic  which I  am honestly thankful for. Instead, his attention i s caught by something outside. Swiveling in my chair, I notice a rather luxurious town car slide up and park outside the café.  _ Oh no.  _ I check my watch and sure enough; time had flown by. 

The door pops open and a leggy blonde steps out. Cold or not, fashion always came first for  Gabriel. Dressed in a silk grey blouse, a patterned skirt and white shoes; her hair is woven casually in a braid . S he st ands out. She always d oes . There  is just something about her that dr aws everyone to stop and stare. Everyone, apparently but Sam.

As I turned back, I realize his eyes aren’t on Gabby, but rather a brunette who just stepped into the café with a tall blond on her arm. She  is  pretty, petite and has a warm smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes . The way he looks at her, it’s fairly obvious it must  be  his ex. 

Glancing back at the Sam, he meets my eyeline briefly before dropping it to the weird fruit bowl. The door rings once again and I hear her approaching my table; slow, confident steps of high heel against cheap tile . “Cassie.” Her fingers drop to my shoulder and I lift my eyes to meet her warm smile. 

“Hello, Gabby.” I murmur in return, her presence having immediately lightening my mood. 

“And who...” She drawls, attention immediately pull ing away to  eye off my roommate. She g i ve s him a once over and her signature quirked smile brighten s up her features. Reaching her manicured hand forward expectantly, she waits for Sam to bow down to her like everyone else. But there  i s something about seeing his ex that entirely destroyed him. 

“I’ll catch up with you later, Cas.” He gives me a nod and slips from the booth, leaving a dumbfounded blonde in his wake. She sits across from me, a pout on her pretty lips.

“What kind of manners are those? Was he raised by wolves?” She huffs, leaning forward and p r opping her elbows up on the table. 

“No, he just...” I gesture with my head towards the joyous couple to the right of us. “His ex. Still pretty fresh.”

“Oh, I see. But what a handsome man for sure. Just a bit of a fixer-upper.” She stares dreamily after him, immediately infatuated. She always has a thing for someone who needs to be cared for. 

“No, Gabby. He’s my roommate.” I insist , wanting to keep my personal and scholar social lives separate. 

“Fine, fine. But my, I will be coming by this campus more often for the sour giant.” She  coos and I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes .

The topic immediately shifts as her eyes roam the table; “What’s th is ?” She asks, picking up my discarded spoon and gently pokes at my melted mush of fruit.

“Something called an Acai bowl.” I comment but the moment I s ay  it, I c an feel her gaze analysing me. 

“ Castiel .” The  second  my full name left her lips, my back straightened like a stiff r eflex . Her pretty eyes roam over me before glancing down at the empty bowl and  then  my much fuller one. She gently reaches out for my hand and I meet her half way. She slips my braided bracelet from her pocket and gestures for me to turn my wrist face up. 

With a rhythm that ha s become the norm over the last few years, she beg ins our outdoor scene by tying the bracelet onto my wrist. The moment it  i s secure, I drop it to my lap and her motherly demeanor surface s , my friend hidden beneath her hardened exterior for now.

“Love, why are the re two Acai Bowls?” She murmurs, her voice soft.

“I wanted to try it.” I comment, my voice low but I knew she could tell I was lying. She gives me a moment to correct my mistake, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.  _ I’m so stupid. This is going to sound ridiculous.  _

I swallow thickly, clearing my throat as my dark brows furrow, “Apologies Mistress.” She gestures for me to continue, “I was too flustered and couldn’t work out what I wanted to eat.”

“I see. Would you like to have something proper to eat before we go shopping, dear?” She asks gently, an understanding smile on her lips. 

“I’m fine mistress, thank you.” 

“Darling, you know you don’t have to be nervous to order things. Just remember to take a deep breath and focus on the menu. Select something simple if you like, but it’s best you do eat. I would be saddened to hear that you are not eating correctly.”

“I know Mistress, thank you.” I repeat and she bows her head, scooting from the booth and holds out her hand for me. I stand up, a smile tugging on my lips as I lace my fingers with hers. 

“Have I told you yet how handsome you look today? I really do appreciate the effort that you put into each outfit you select, it shows a level of class that is rare these days.” She comments and the smile on my face grows, absolutely geniune. It is days like this with her that makes me see the value of friendship and trust. “I also want you to make friends here. That Sam boy, although lacking in manners, seems to be quite friendly with you. I don’t want you to miss an opportunity. Just baby steps, Cassie. I believe in you.” 


	3. A Shopping Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel takes Castiel on a shopping trip.

The shopping trip is a rather long one considering it was just to get a new set of clothes for the night ahead. Gabriel is as lavish on the inside as she is on the outside. She works hard and loves to pamper the people around her, but also loves her fair share of beautiful things. 

When we first started these extravagant shopping trips, I was immensely uncomfortable. I wasn’t use to someone showering me with so much love and affection in the forms of gifts but Gabriel has always insisted that everyone deserves to be pampered. 

“Oh darling, you look amazing!” She coos, clasping her hands together as I tug at the snug jeans. I pull a face, clearly unimpressed at how tightly it hugs my hips and thighs as I stand exposed, in the middle of the dressing room. 

“Is it really me though, Gabby?” I exasperate and she rolls her eyes, waving her hands with disdain, “No, but you look hot.” She counters. With my bracelet now tucked safely in my pocket, we were back to the usual banter of old friends. 

“I’m getting them for you regardless.” She insists and with that, I know there was no use trying to fight her on it. I let out a low sigh, adding it to the pile of clothes she is persistent in me purchasing. 

“Cas, it’s almost 4pm, perhaps we should return to my apartment so you can start getting ready?” She calls out as I slip back behind the thick curtain and I shimmy back into my old clothes. I feel the nerves begin to crawl up and constrict in my chest. I had managed to repress it through lunch and the multiple stores she dragged me to. I take a moment, sucking in a deep breath and letting out a longer one to calm myself. I can do this. Gathering up her selected choices of attire, I step out of the dressing room. 

“Castiel.” I hear my full name and immediately straighten, turning to look at Gabriel. “Would you mind waiting outside for me, I have some business to attend to.” She murmurs. I know she never used my full name without a due cause and I immediately nod, not questioning her. Passing her the clothes we agreed upon, I ignore the whispering sales women and slip from the store. With a tinkle of the bell, I sidle up to the car and lets out a low sigh, resting my back against the tinted window. 

Everyone is so judgmental, especially since ‘the incident’. Her name was smeared through the newspapers, her brothers having pulled her reputation through the mud but she was too proud to back down and always insisted on coming back to these places. 

I look up, my eyes taking in the bland signage; grey suits marching in a bored unison when a dash of red flannel walking by catches my attention. I blink a few times, straightening up as my gaze follows the stranger. Bow legs, tight jeans; green- I feel my chest constrict, lips parting as I gape like an idiot. I meet his eyeline and those gorgeous eyes meet mine. It is like time stops; he is like a breath of fresh air in a city of grey. He gives me a heart racing smirk and a once over before turning away. Is that- 

“Cas!” I snap back to reality, flicking my eyes to the bright blonde momentarily before ripping my eyes away to search the sea of people to look for him. I wanted to chase after him, follow and find out more when Gabriel gently brushes her hand over my upper arm; “You alright?” She asks and I feel ridiculous, there was no way I would run into Jensen down town, what kind of luck would that be? Perhaps I am just imagining things, it was probably just a guy who looked like him so I simply wave it off. “Yeah, I'm fine. Let’s head back to yours.” I know better than to ask if she had dealt with her ‘problem’. She would brush it off or shoot me a warning glare so I had learnt better than to ask over the last few months. 

The car ride back to hers is short, filled with her cooing and digging through the bags to gush over what she is going to wear things with and I listen, a gentle smile on my lips as I listen to her spiel of excitement. By the time we arrive back to her lavish building, the sun is setting and a darkness begins to settle quickly on the streets. Collecting the shopping bags, she thanks the driver and we hurry inside. She is bubbly and carefree as always, skipping in front and gushing about her own plans for the evening when we arrive to her floor. 

The apartment is quiet, the lingering smell of cigarette smoke and sex filling the usually floral room. Soft jazz sings from the nearby speaker as I shrug off my overcoat. Rolling up my sleeves, I turn to Gabby and takes the silk stranded bags from her delicate hands. 

“Alfie, darling?” Gabriel's soft voice echo's down the hallway and a few moments later, a tussled hair, half naked blonde appears in the doorway. Without a moments’ hesitation, he kneels down onto the plush carpet; head bowed low as he waits to be told to do otherwise. 

“Hello my little prince, Is Ro here? Did you take good care of her for me?” She asks, her eyes trained on him as she holds out her petite hands. “Stand.” She tells him and he follows her instructions, taking her hands in his. 

“Yes Mistress.” He bows his head to her, “Say hello to Castiel.” She coos and he looks at me with a warm smile, “brother.” He dips his head again and I return the formal greeting. 

Despite lack of relation, it is the way Gabriel preferred us to address each other. I place the shopping bags on the plush couch, Alfie already eyeing them as if he was waiting for instructions to move them. 

“You two back already?” I turn my head towards the voice, a fierce red-head lingering in the doorway with a subtle smile. Her body is adorned in a navy lingerie set, intricately woven with gold lace. Her sheer gown half hangs from her shoulder, a cigarette balancing delicately between her index and middle finger. 

“Ro.” Gabby breathes out, her expression shifting into one filled with such love and delight. She gallops over to her petite lover, pressing a flurry of kisses over her face. ‘Gabe-” Rowena tries her best to hide the obvious smile fighting across her lips as she ts-ks, fluttering her lashes a little as she playfully shoves her affectionate lover. Her attention lands on me and I feel a sense of shyness creep over me. 

“It’s been such a long time tweetie pie.” She sides steps around her cooing girlfriend, taking my face in her hands as she looks over me. “Such a wee boy. Are you sure you are eating enough? Getting enough sleep?” She asks, running her thumbs underneath my tired eyes with a slight huff. She is on the tips of her toes and I reach forward to gently hold her waist to allow her to balance with ease. 

“Tsk. Come.” She falls flat footed, lacing her fingers with mine. “Alfie love, would you mind disposing of this for me?” She asks, holding out her now decrepit cigarette. 

“Of course, Mistress.” He takes it from between her fingers without hesitation and she leans a little closer to me, wrapping her small hands around my arm as she rests her curled head on my shoulder. The lingering smell of sweat and cigarettes on her is somewhat comforting as I wrap my arms around her hips. “Gabby, darling? Alfie has been such a sweet lover for me all morning, would you mind giving him some proper food and care? We only finished moments before you arrived home.” She breaths out as I gently brush my fingers through her matted hair. 

“Of course. Go rest with Cassie, he needs it.” They give each other a chaste kiss before Gabby bounds off to wherever Alfie has vanished too as I turn my attention to Rowena. “What’s wrong lad? Cas, darling, you look exhausted.” She gives me a disapproving look, her lips twisting down in disapproval. 

“I’m sorry, Ro. I am doing my best.” I breath out and she shakes her head, tight lipped as she gently tugs me along to the bedroom, “I know you are sweet pea. Up on the bed.” She tells me, wrapping her robe tighter around her waist. 

“Um...” I dig into my pocket, gently pulling out the braided bracelet. I brush my fingers over the familiar gold cut wings, my eyes tentatively meeting hers. Her whole face softens, taking the bracelet from my hand. No words were needed; She could read me like an open book. She brushes her fingers over my wrist in an intimate manner, working on a rather intricate knot. She moves with such poised grace, her slender fingers braiding together the band like she has been doing it for years. Her usually hardened exterior now much softer as her lips remain in a slight downturn. 

To go from sex to helping me calm down certainly wasn’t a task I would wish upon her. But she seems willing and as the last knot was tied firmly around my scarred wrist, her expression shifts in an instant. 

I feel a sense of relief, having the anxiety slip from my grasp as she straightens a little and her familiar switch of tone has me melting into a puddle of relief. 

“Fetch my brush, dear. These curls will not de tangle themselves.” Her voice is clipped, her previous smile having completely vanished. Her tight lipped and cool exterior burns through as she focuses on plucking invisible lint from the silk sheets. She regresses to using pet names; something I had grown fond of over the years. 

I slip from the bed, retrieving her brush. I gently pluck the hair free and discards it before returning to her side. I slip to sit behind her. 

“May I?” I murmur and she gives me a brisk nod. I take her curls between my fingers, gently running the brush through. “Tell me about the shopping trip.” She commands, her voice low and firm. 

I sit up a little straighter, clearing my throat; “Mistress selected some clothes to wear for me this evening.” 

“Mm. Are you feeling confident?” She inquires and I couldn’t help the more honest answer that slips from my lips. “No. But after some rest, I don’t see why I won’t be.” 

“Pet, look at me.” She tips my chin, angling for me to look at her properly; “You, are a strong and fierce angel. Do not let you tell yourself otherwise. You can always cancel but I think you would regret it at a later date.” 

With her affirming words, I nod and finish grooming out her hair. “Now, rest.” She shuffles over, laying back against the plush mattress and holds open her well-toned arms; “Come.” 

I wiggle down, feeling small as I rest my head on the crook of her neck. She is warm, delicate in nature yet such a strong force. I tentatively wrap one arm around her waist as I settle to lay on my stomach. My eyes close although not quite ready to sleep. 

“Mistress?” I murmur softly and she lets out a gentle hum in response, brushing her nails through my hair. I melt instantly under her gentle touch, loving the feeling of someone playing with my hair. “Have you met Jensen before?” I ask quietly. 

“I have.” She answers, not elaborating any further so I press a little more. 

“What kind of person is he?” I had heard about what Gabriel thought of him but perhaps another perspective might ease the grapple of stress pulling at my stomach. She let's out a tired sigh, “No matter what I say sweetie, it will not put your heart at ease.” I feel a sense of embarrassment at being so transparent to her. But I suppose she has known me for so many years I honestly shouldn’t be surprised. 

“Jensen is beautiful and charming.” She murmurs, surprising me as my eyes snap open to look at her properly, “But underneath that killer smile is so much pain and loneliness. Castiel, he is so lost in his own perdition. You must grip him and raise him from his own turmoil like Gabriel did for you.” 

I nod in response, strangely feeling a little more at ease. To know I was trusted with such a task is daunting but to be believed in is so refreshing that I welcome the challenge with an open heart. I take a calming breath, letting my heavy lids flutter closed once again. And with that, I fall into a calming sleep.


End file.
